


first dance

by kagako



Series: dimileth week 2019 [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: After the Wedding, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Marriage, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-31 02:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20784755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagako/pseuds/kagako
Summary: “It is what must happen!” Mercedes stresses the matter with a fire in her eyes. “It’s tradition!”“Yes, yes. The two of you must share the first dance,” Sylvain agrees.Byleth almost refuses—how could she dance in this state?-day 5: dance (after the wedding)





	first dance

**Author's Note:**

> obviously, this is set after their wedding!  
thank you so much to all the people sticking with me, it means so much!  
we have one more day to go, I am not sure if I will write something for the free day as I am coming up empty on ideas, lol. but like i said before, maybe it'll be late? who knows!
> 
> enjoy!

The after party is moved to a different part of the church, and the first thing everyone insists upon is that the bride and the groom share a dance.

“It is what must happen!” Mercedes stresses the matter with a fire in her eyes. “It’s tradition!”

“Yes, yes. The two of you must share the first dance,” Sylvain agrees.

Byleth almost refuses—how could she dance in this state? She still feels weightless from their kiss, her mind in the clouds at all the joy that radiates around them, her feet a bit achy from the height of the heels Ingrid insisted she wore. The dress feels a bit suffocating, but again, Byleth thinks, she is just far too warm in the glow of being one with the _one_ she now has her arm hooked with.

“You never danced with him before, have you?” Sylvain says it like a taunt, and Dimitri gives him a sour look, because—that was true. Felix rolls his eyes and jabs him in the side with an elbow while Ashe tries not to laugh too loudly.

Back then, she had danced with Claude, and a few students whom she now could not remember.

“Then, let us dance,” Byleth says hurriedly, before their wedding turned into a scene of slaughter. She pulls him toward the middle of the floor, suddenly conscious of all the eyes that were now on them—familiar, and not. From the front of the room, instruments begin to play a soft melody, and Byleth feels magic in the air as shimmers of wind blow out half the candles, setting the atmosphere most embarrassingly.

Dimitri pulls her from her thoughts as efficiently as he pulls her once more against him. He curls his fingers against her hand, palm to palm as he places his other hand on her waist. Quickly, Byleth raises her other arm, mind stalling because she wasn’t quite sure where to place her hand—“Anywhere is fine, beloved,” Dimitri tells her smoothly.

Byleth nods and finally slides her hand beneath his arm, pressing her palm against his shoulder blade.

He guides her fluidly, their footfalls unhurried as they move in easy circles around the space the other guests have left for them. Byleth hardly remembered how to do this—it wasn’t exactly muscle memory, but it wasn’t as if she _hadn’t_ learned to dance all those years ago. If she accidently stepped on Dimitri’s feet, which she knows she has, he does nothing if not smile brighter at her.

“A lot of people… showed,” she murmurs, allowing herself to be guided by Dimitri.

“Yes. Was it shocking?”

“Kind of,” she admits, but then gives a small shrug. “It is… to be expected, I suppose.”

“It was a wedding for a King and a _Grace,_ after all.”

“Do not tease me,” Byleth warns, but the laugh that escapes Dimitri’s lips is _far_ too bubbly for her liking, so she sniffs and sighs, “I heard you practiced lifting a veil on Dedue.”

He stills for a beat in their motions but recovers quickly. There is the cutest shade of pink staining high on his cheeks, and his brows are furrowed as if fighting off an embarrassing memory. Dimitri sighs, tapping his fingers against her side, a warning. “I told him not to tell you.”

Byleth smiles up at him, pressing closer, now completely unaware of all the eyes watching them. Faintly, she can hear the harps and the violins, a soft hum pleasant against what might be an upcoming headache. “Do not blame him. I am now a Queen, aren’t I?”

Dimitri hums, pleased. “You are.”

“I also…” Byleth focuses on her feet for a moment, careful with how she steps forward as he steps back, following the way he turns them easily. She can feel his fingertips against her waist, making small circles, like the most natural thing in the world. “I heard… you wanted to see me.”

“I do not remember our friends being ones to gossip.” Dimitri laughs though, nodding gently as he takes in the way she looks. Byleth looks… different, yet no less beautiful. It occurs to him that this is the first time he has seen her _this_ dressed up, and comes to find that, either way, he is pleased with anyway she looks, content with taking her anyway she pleased. Her hair is up and away from her face, which is something he adores but would not admit to, because he too knows just how comforting it is, sometimes, to have a way to hide with the aid of your own hair. “As I suspected, you look beautiful—or, is breathtaking the correct term?”

Byleth squints at him, giving his shoulder a light pinch that he only smiles wider at, and Byleth can do nothing but sigh as if having lost a fight. The melody of the instruments is still playing and all eyes are still on them, but as she looks at him, Byleth feels nothing but content. Dimitri looks so much happier—the dark circles under his eyes are still there, perhaps they always will be, but they are so much lighter than they were months ago. His hair is combed and one side is slicked back, away from his good eye; hair falling over his eyepatch.

He looks healthy, and alive, so radiant that Byleth wonders if she will go blind.

“Won’t you twirl?”

“Wha—?”

Caught off guard, Byleth startles, eyes wide as Dimitri moves his hands, dropping the one at her waist and raising the one with their hands clasped. He makes a motion, one that she follows on instinct, and it is only a bit embarrassing as she twirls, her dress lifting slightly along the wind, the veil fastened to her hair fluttering behind her.

There is clapping, and coos of endearments, of how beautiful of a couple they were and how gorgeous and memorable their wedding will prove to be.

Dimitri pulls Byleth forward, cupping her cheek with his free hand, and Byleth thinks, for a fleeting moment, that the magic in the air must have seeped straight into the very center of her being. He kisses her again, gentle and sweet with promises of happiness and unshakable love.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! ♥


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